


Of All the Gin Joints

by nonsolumsedetiam



Series: Here's Looking At You [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Usual Suspects AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonsolumsedetiam/pseuds/nonsolumsedetiam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Sam Wesson, ex-con, met Jessica Moore the lawyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All the Gin Joints

Sam Wesson was free. All six feet and over, long limbs and everything, out of Sing Sing and lying low, just until his murder rap blew over. He met Jessica Moore in a bar, of all places. Even with a beer in his hand, and every fiber of his being on the alert for his former brothers, the boys in blue, he still noticed the blonde at the end of the bar. She had curly blonde hair, a beautiful smile, and legs that stretched for miles. Legs that made their way right toward him.

"See something you like?"

Assertive. A girl who knew she looked good and wasn't shy about it. Sam liked her already.

"Maybe." He gestured for her to take a seat on the bar stool next to her and told the bar tender to get her a drink. She held out a smooth hand for Sam to shake, and he did so, relishing the coolness of her palm.

"Jessica Moore."

"Sam."

She raised an eye brow, interest and play sparkling in her eyes.

"Is there a tail end to that?"

"Maybe."

"Better watch yourself, pal," she leaned on the bar, tilting her head coyly, "I just might start cross examining right here at this bar."

"You a lawyer?"

"Maybe."

Sam grinned and shook his head. Maybe in another time, another place, where there were no prison records, no criminal pasts, no inhibitions, he could have taken her to dinner. They could have gotten to know each other and dated. Hell, they could even have been married. But this wasn't maybe, and Sam had to look out for himself.

"Look, I just want you to know that I think you're a knock out. But you don't want a guy like me."

She blinked, then her eyes wandered to the corners of the bar, considering what he just said. She reached for her purse, rummaging inside until she pulled out a black sharpie. Taking his arm, she wrote a down a phone number and leaned in close enough to kiss,

"For when you're done playing mystery man."

* * *

 

It should have ended there at the bar. Sam was a smart man. He knew this couldn't end well. He had plans to head to the west coast. California maybe. Start anew. But then there was Jessica Moore. Beautiful Jess. God help him, he was hooked.

She was clever and funny and kept him on his toes. She was drop-dead-and-go-to-heaven gorgeous. And Sam was himself around her, someone he hadn't been since he lost touch with Dean. He was getting used to being called Mysterious Sam. It was nice, and it couldn't last forever.

By the time he told her he was Sam Wesson, it was too late. She loved him and he loved her. Despite his criminal record and the fact he was a crooked cop; despite her duty to the law. She loved him and protected him. She was his savior, his star, his promise to a life that by all rights should have been his. He didn't think he deserved salvation, but she did. She told him herself.

It was perfect. An apple pie life (he did wonder about Dean, but from what he heard underground, Dean was doing fine). He was moving on, leaving the past behind.

* * *

 

Until one day,

" _This I had to see for myself."_

" _Henriksen."_

It all went to hell on a bobsled.

* * *


End file.
